The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,22

she did not think that was an unnatural reaction. “He was a glover,” she said recovering herself and hitting on the first profession that sprang to mind.

“Oh yes?” A gleam of interest came into Bess’s eye. “I did hear as an uncommon number of glovers was caught up in that fire last year in Halperton Square. That how you lost your man, was it?”

Una shook her head. “Old age,” she improvised. “He was a good deal older than me.”

Bess looked unconvinced. “Only I did hear,” she continued, “as most of them glovers in Halperton Square lost all their materials and premises in one fell swoop, as well as their lives.” She cast a sharp look at Una. “If you was to be a widow to one of them, I doubt you’d be left with much by way of riches.”

Una shifted uneasily in her saddle. She wished she’d said her departed husband was a spice merchant now. Noticing her unease, Bess suddenly turned conspiratorial, lowering her voice. “Don’t you fret, sweetheart. I ain’t going to tell ’im. You gotta make what you can of this life, ’specially us women. Use what the gods gave us. If you hooked ’im, telling ’im you was a rich widow, then more fool ’im, I says.”

Una rearranged her expression into one of sorrowful agreement. “It’s a hard lot in life for us women,” she concurred.

“But I’ll give you a piece of advice for nuffink, my love,” Bess said, with a nod. “First chance you gets, I’d skip out on this one if I was you.” She nodded toward Armand’s horse. “Before he skips out on you. Depend upon it, that’s what he’ll do, first chance he gets.” A look of disgust passed over her face. “You can’t trust men what has a ready, smooth-tongue, nor ones wiv a pretty face. And this one you’ve took up wiv has got both. Clean ’is pockets out, first chance you gets, my darlin’,” she urged. “And get yourself another old ’un. They’re easier. The older and uglier the better, in my experience.”

Dickon guffawed, but Una was spared from having to react by the reappearance of Armand, who was now carrying a pack in one hand and some well-worn saddlebags in the other. Casting a reassuring look in her direction, he strapped these to his horse, as Una surreptitiously extracted a coin from the purse that hung from her belt.

Mounting his horse, Armand flipped a coin at Dickon and started forward. Una took the opportunity to turn in her saddle and toss the coin up to Bess. The other woman caught it, a look of surprise on her face. That look deepened when she looked down at the coin in her palm. She let out an exclamation, then hurriedly closed her fingers over the gold gleam. Una smiled when their eyes met and nodded farewell. Bess blew her a kiss. “Bless you,” she mouthed. “And good luck.”

There was no opportunity for them to speak for the next twenty minutes, as they navigated their way out of the narrow passages and toward the wider spaces of the main square. Una looked about with interest to see the streets grow clearly more affluent and respectable as they approached the square, with increasingly decorative windows and guild badges and banners displayed on the side of the buildings. The streets seemed in the main to be named after the livelihoods that dominated them. They went down Saddlers Walk to approach Mason Way and then came out on Tailor Street.

They had now reached the square and could ride abreast of one another.

“What did you give Bess?” Armand asked with interest. “Back at The Stone Crow.”

“A coin,” she answered, considerably surprised that he had noticed their exchange. His attention had seemed elsewhere at the time. He said nothing, but she could see the faint pucker between his brows. “She was kind enough to give me a piece of advice,” she admitted.

His eyebrows rose. “Doesn’t sound like Bess.”

“Ah, but you’re not a fellow woman,” she pointed out.

Armand seemed amused. “She has never struck me as a champion of her own sex, I have to say.”

Una was silent a moment, pondering this. “Am I to take it she runs a bawdy house?” she asked calmly. Armand went off in a coughing fit. She could see she had stunned him and was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, have I said something I ought not?”

“Not a bawdy house, no,” he spluttered. “It’s an inn. She runs it with her sister,